The Naked Truth
by generationxhero
Summary: "His own husband couldn't even come to him, didn't even bother confiding and seek comfort from him, Spencer had to go out and seek other people for all those things."


A/N:

Unbetaed (feel free to point out any glaring mistakes). It feels absolutely amazing to be able to write again. I've been really busy with school and that pretty much took all creativity out of me. But when I watched s7, I got inspired again and wrote this. Takes place after 6.18 and 7.02. Happy reading!

/

Nothing but darkness and silence greeted Aaron and Spencer as they entered their home. Jack was sleeping over at his friend's house, and he wasn't coming home until mid-afternoon the next day. As soon as they slipped off their shoes and hung up their coats, they separated and wandered off into their own worlds. The reason Aaron hadn't pushed Spencer against the wall and placed a rough passionate kiss on the lips like he normally would have whenever they had the house for themselves was because they had just came home from Prentiss' funeral.

Emily Prentiss died on the table. She didn't make it.

Emily was dead.

Aaron had to repeat those words over and over in his mind. Perhaps, if he said it often enough, his mind would be fooled into thinking it was true. But when in reality, it wasn't. It was a complete and utter lie. And it was killing him slowly inside like a malignant disease. Not being able to share this information with Spencer – and the only person who he could talk about it was with JJ – was so emotionally exhausting. Not to mention it was causing such a horrendous strain in his and Spencer's relationship. Because, truth be told, Spencer could read Aaron like an open book. A book that appeared completely complex on the cover, but when it was read, it turned out to be nothing but an easily comprehensible children's book. That was how easy his husband could read him. Aaron was supposed to be one of the hardest people to figure out but not to Spencer. And Aaron was aware that his husband knew something was eating away inside of him. However, he knew that Spencer respected his privacy and was willing to wait for his husband to initiate the conversation.

Too bad for Spencer, he was going to have to wait for a while. Maybe forever. Unless Doyle was caught and put away for good or dead. But Aaron didn't want Doyle dead just yet. Because like Morgan – although Aaron wasn't there when Morgan held Prentiss when she had the wooden plank stabbed inside her – he wanted justice to be served. He wanted Doyle to rot in high-security jail and stay there for the rest of his life.

Spencer used their bathroom first, he was always the first one. It was routine. And while he showered, Aaron removed his formal wear and delicately placed them onto their proper hangers. With a gentle sigh, he placed the clothes into their closet – which was color-coordinated, a habit he dutifully kept even after his divorce with Haley – and sat on the king sized bed – Spencer's incentive – in only his white undershirt, black and blue plaid boxers, and charcoal socks.

When Spencer finally came out, his short hair was still damp with tiny droplets of water glistening over his graceful, broad shoulders and towel tied tightly around his tiny waist. His eyes, though, something was off.

Something was different.

Aaron couldn't read his expression.

Wordlessly, Spencer took a step forward, but Aaron dropped his gaze and bolted off the bed and into the bathroom without looking back. Almost frantically, he turned the shower on and set the water to nearly scolding hot. Naked and vulernable under the hot water, feeling the scolding water burn his skin, the anxiety inside of him almost subsided. Almost. But the image of Spencer's eyes just seconds before couldn't be removed from his mind. He was almost terrified. Terrified of being exposed.

Another sigh escaped his lips, exhaustedly and exasperatedly.

He couldn't tell Spencer though. It could – or rather – it would cost him his job. And as much as he loved Spencer, he also loved his job. His career as a profiler was a major part of him, it played such huge role in his life, and he wouldn't know what to do with himself if he was ever forced to quit before he was ready to do so. That was why when Strauss offered him early retirement with full benefits after Haley's death, he declined respectably.

Aaron stepped out of the shower and stood in front of the mirror. Steam fogged the small bathroom. All he saw was a distorted version of himself. He was almost tempted to leave it, because he was afraid of what he would see. Eventually, with a shaky hand, he did wipe the steam off the mirror. In front of him were bloodshot eyes, deeper and darker bags than usual underneath his dim hazelnut eyes, and tiny wrinkles from excessive worrying, that was what he saw in his reflection.

Maybe this burden wasn't worth keeping.

Eventually, Aaron re-entered his and Spencer's room and found his husband sitting in bed, hands folded, legs under the covers, looking out the window – which was open a couple inches to let fresh air circulate the room – with his lamp flicked on. The moon was out, a crescent moon and a blanket of stars surrounded it. As he neared the bed, a gentle breeze from outside sent a shiver up his spine. He pushed the urge to go back to the bathroom down, back to the steamy warmth from his shower. Without any sound, he lied down on his side of the bed, body fully engulfed with their cream-coloured comforter, seeking for some sort of protection.

Seconds, or perhaps minutes, ticked on by and Aaron found himself drifting off to sleep. But Spencer finally spoke and woke him up.

"Aaron, talk to me."

Unintentionally and half-awake, Aaron tensed and he was sure Spencer felt his reaction. Spencer wasn't supposed to do this, confronting him. This wasn't something he normally did.

"About what?"

Aaron told his distraught body to relax, and it worked – for the most part. But it was too late.

"I don't know; I can't quite figure it out. But you've been distant lately," Spencer paused as he switched to a sitting position with his elbows propped on his lap and head resting on the palm of his hand. His gaze remained locked onto Aaron. "We never talk anymore – and by talk, I mean our feelings, your feelings. Never once did you talk about your thoughts about Emily's death. And you know what? I don't think you've even grieved yet. I know your grieving process is different from everyone else, Aaron, but I know you. You've been holding it back – or something, whatever it is, is holding you back."

Aaron froze. He tried too hard to maintain his relationship with Spencer by always talking about things Spencer liked to discuss and spoiled him with his cooking. Everyday after Emily's funeral – which really was just a few days but Aaron had only ever occasionally cooked since he was normally exhausted from their job – Aaron cooked for him. But Spencer was right; he hadn't actually mourned Emily's death. Because really, how could he? She wasn't really dead, she was more like thousands upon thousands of miles away trying to keep safe. As much as Aaron wanted to, telling Spencer that wasn't an option.

So he lied.

He tried to justify: he was under strict orders to keep Emily's situation quiet, he would lose his job and lose half of what mattered to him. But he trusted Spencer. And Spencer finally, finally trusted him. It was incredibly difficult for him to trust anyone. So why lie to him? Why jeopardize their relationship?

"Spencer, I don't know what you're talking about. You, of all people, know that I grieve differently – you even said so yourself. But, just so you know and understand, I have mourned; we lost a close, important colleague and friend. She died because I – we couldn't get to her in time. You have to understand how frustrating and how enraged I am by that – that I couldn't get to my agents in time. You're all my responsibility, and after losing her makes me question my capability to lead this team."

Most couples lied to one another; it was, after all, human nature to lie. But Aaron made sure he always told his husband the truth, whether he was staying at the office an extra hour – or hours – or giving Jack that extra sugar cookie he wasn't supposed to have before bedtime. But what he had said was lies, except for the last bit; he did feel frustrated to not have gotten to her in time. If they did, he wouldn't have been forced to keep any of this a secret. He wouldn't have been forced to carry a burden.

At first, Spencer hadn't breathed a single word. The longer the silence engulfed the room, the more relieve sank inside Aaron's chest. But finally, Spencer whispered something. "It's not your fault, Aaron. None of it is."

Spencer flicked the light off and silence once again filled the atmosphere of their room. Aaron knew Spencer saw right through him. Yes, he did feel responsible, but no, he hadn't grieved. Of course he hadn't.

Emily was not dead.

/

Several months later, the gap that stood between Aaron and Spencer widened. It widened so much that they hardly ever conversed with one another, slept in different beds, took different cars to work – VRE usually for Spencer, even though he had a car – and Aaron supposed that the only reason they were still together was because of Jack. Spencer loved Jack like his own son and nothing would ever prevent him from loving Jack.

Aaron thought it was a blessing in disguise when the downsizing occurred and he was stationed out to Pakistan temporarily. Because the tension between them was just that bad. On the bright side, weeks after Emily died, JJ came back to the BAU. It felt great to have JJ back, comforting, especially since she was the one other person who knew about Emily's situation. However, that was when he and Spencer drifted apart. Everyday, Spencer left after supper and came home shortly after ten. Aaron just assumed that Spencer was attending his NA meetings with his sponsor, and that perhaps that Emily's death provoked him to crave again. It still made him worry about not knowing exactly where his husband was – even if they had a strain in their relationship.

It also didn't help that Jack always asked where Spencer went after he had left and why he wasn't allowed to go with his Spencey. Aaron would just glance at his son and gently placed his hand on Jack's head. He would say something along the lines, "He's just out with a friend, but he'll be back later. Maybe he'll be back to tuck you into bed."

But he never did. Jack's bedtime was always between eight and nine. Spencer was home after ten. Jack never said anything about it, though.

He just wished for their relationship to get better – for his sake and Jack's. Because Jack wasn't the only one effected. He, too, was worried. And it came to a point where he began to lose appetite. His suits became slightly looser on him and the most obvious indication of weight lost was on his face. Spencer always seemed to want to comment but never did.

/

Doyle was caught, but Declan was in danger. They needed help, so they brought Emily to came back, and Aaron was afraid that the gap between him and Spencer would never be filled again.

Emily was not dead.

What made him even more upset was that Spencer directed his anger towards JJ instead of him the next few days. In fact, Spencer lashed out on her during a case in Oklahoma. Although JJ knew about Emily's situation, that Emily was alive when the rest of them didn't, she didn't deserve Spencer's attitude.

After giving the briefing, Aaron held Spencer back.

"If you want to be mad at someone, be made at me."

Spencer glanced away and shook his head.

"I can't, I didn't come to you crying for ten weeks straight."

Before Aaron could respond, Spencer fled the room.

So that was where he went. All those times he thought Spencer had gone to NA meetings, he actually went to JJ instead. Aaron frowned, his fingers pinched the bridge of his nose. This was how he was rewarded for following orders. His own husband couldn't even come to him, didn't even bother confiding and seek comfort from him, Spencer had to go out and seek other people for all those things.

At that point, Aaron was at an absolute lost. He wasn't sure if he could ever fix his and Spencer's relationship because they became so disconnected and distant with one another.

/

Aaron waited until after the case to talk to Spencer. They stood in the doorway of their home, removing their shoes. It seemed as if it were a similar situation they were in several months earlier, and Aaron didn't know what to make out of it. Both of them did the same routine, Spencer took a shower first and Aaron placed his dirty clothes in the hamper and hung the suits didn't need washing. By the time Aaron was just in his under clothes, Spencer came out of the bathroom, hair wet and chest glistening with tiny droplets of water. They both made eye contact and neither of them budged. But finally, Spencer let out a deep sigh and turned his head away. This was Aaron's cue.

"Spencer, wait," Aaron called out with a shaky voice. He swore silently in his head for his lack of confidence.

His husband glanced back, eyes filled with exhaustion. He waited.

"We," he paused, trying to recover from whatever black hole he was sucked in but was unsuccessful doing so as his voice still quivered in uncertainty, "need to talk."

Spencer nodded and tipped his head towards the bathroom. "Go shower first."

Caught off guard by Spencer's reaction, all Aaron could do was nod and stumbled into the bathroom. Once again, Aaron found himself under steamy hot water and stood under it for as long as his body could take it before turning on the cold water knob. During his shower, he just turned off whatever thoughts he had and stared blankly at the wall in front of him. When he stepped out of the shower, he didn't bother glancing at his reflection. He didn't bother brainstorming for ideas of what to say because he already knew, and he just hoped that Spencer would understand.

After changing into some clean clothes, he stepped back into the room. Spencer was sitting on their bed, feet on the floor, legs bent in a perfect ninety degree angle and head looking down. When Spencer sensed his presence, he glanced up. Aaron swallowed the growing lump in his throat and took a few steps forward. Spencer didn't move.

"Please tell me the truth, Spencer, do you still love me?"

Spencer's eyes widened, he definitely didn't anticipate him asking that. In fact, it took him a few moments to recover. Finally, he sighed and placed his hand on his forehead and then through his hair. "Aaron, of course I do, why would you even question that?"

Aaron was tempted to run away – to be anywhere but there in the same room with his husband. But he stayed where he was. He needed to fix their relationship.

"Spencer, I want you to promise me something. I'm going to talk now, but you have to promise me you won't interrupt until I'm done speaking."

At first, his husband was reluctant and hesitant. Finally, he gave in and nodded, urging him to get on with it. His anxiousness was obvious.

"You know, Spence, I've always been…exceptional when it came to making speeches. That was one of the factors that helped me become a successful prosecutor. But right now, at this very moment, I'm a little lost for words. Do you know why? It's because I need to express my thoughts in a way that you will understand completely and not misunderstand."

He paused and took a deep breath before continuing.

"Spencer, I can't even begin to imagine how you felt when Emily supposedly died because I've always known the truth – the truth of her situation, about her well-being. But although I knew she was alive the whole time, she wasn't here with us and I lost a friend, too. I didn't know if she would ever come back because Doyle could have just disappeared forever which would mean she would, too, until he was caught or worse, he would find her first.

"However, I do understand how it feels to lose someone important in your life and you would give up anything and everything to save that person's life and give your own life instead. Because it happened to me, it was my fault Haley died. And then, later on, you found out that I knew the truth all along, and that I withhold that information from you. You feel betrayed and hurt. I should've told you. Because that's what we, as a married couple, are supposed to do. We're expected to always tell each other the truth, whether it's the good, bad, and the ugly – and I guess the forbidden as well. I can only imagine the betrayal you felt, and whatever I say will probably never justify that.

"But you also have to understand my side, too, Spencer. I did want to tell you, desperately. But I couldn't, you know I couldn't. You know I was under strict orders to keep Emily's situation confidential. And it was killing not only our relationship, but myself as well. Because, god, Spence, I love you and Jack loves you, and without you, I would be a complete and utter wreck. I'm just so sorry that all of this had to happen. And I understand if you want to leave me, in fact, I wouldn't blame you. All the strain our relationship endured was completely my fault. And I'm so sorry."

Towards the end, his voice became even shakier. Aaron's eyes were glassy, and as each second passed, it was becoming harder and harder to fight the tears away. Finally, he whispered a few more words.

"Spencer, you don't need me anymore, you deserve someone better. I don't deserve your trust and love."

For the next few moments, no other words were said. The only audible sounds echoing in their room was Aaron's ragged breathing. He closed his eyes and let his tears finally drop. Terror was the word that could describe how the emotion Aaron was feeling as he stood in front of Spencer, petrified and exposed. He no longer had the will and energy to glance at his husband to see his reaction. He, however, expected the most obvious emotion that swelled up inside of Spencer was rage. He was probably completely appalled and disgusted how Aaron chose to his job over their marriage by following those orders.

But he was wrong.

Aaron felt warm, slender arms wrap around his torso. He felt Spencer's cheek – which was also damp from tears – brushed against his own cheek. They stood there for what seemed like several minutes, holding each other, sharing each other's grief.

Finally, Spencer broke the silence, his voice shy off from being audible.

"Thank you."

Confusion filled Aaron's face but a second later, he understood. He finally told the truth, the bare complete truth of how he felt and what he was thinking. He finally admitted and apologized for what he was forced into doing. And that was all Spencer wanted and waited for, Aaron just failed to realize that. Perhaps, there was a hope in their relationship yet.

And for the first time in months, they finally connected.

/

end.


End file.
